It's a hard thing to witness the end to a relationship.  Like the remains of a raging fire that once burned passionately, the embers that remain slowly die no matter how much you blow on them to keep them alive.  Many of us enter into relationships seeking a "partner in crime" or just someone who can understand us.  These start out as a lively and bright spark, and slowly build into a steady blaze.  However, if the fire is not maintained it can easily burn out of control or subside to a weak flicker.  Relationships are not something you can just jump into expecting all the results and no work.  That is the stuff of high school days.  Serious partnerships are harder than being alone by far.  There are values to compare, differences to work through, and just general arguments that have to be resolved in order for a bond to grow and last.  If you are not strong enough to handle a few fights, then you obviously aren't ready for much of a commitment.  Likewise, any relationship that is constantly in turmoil is unlikely to be worth all that hot air.  Sometimes it is just best to move along.

Nothing to see here....

Having been through a few (seven and counting) boyfriends myself in just 4 years, I've witnessed firsthand the disorder and confusion that results from sticking to a relationship that was really just a piece of metal covered in gasoline: a quick spark and it burns brightly in a flash, but just as quickly it's gone.  Without a solid flammable material for a base, the fire has nothing to feed off of, and isn't much of a fire for long.  Taking the time to gather kindling, wood and all the other materials necessary for a lasting fire, will leave you with a bright and toasty bonfire that will last as long as you keep feeding it what it needs which is, in essence, Love.

There was a minor upset in my personal life tonight.  It would not have bothered me so much if I had not been ruthlessly shamed.  It is of no fault but my own, however, I have never been much like rubber.  In fact, I think I may even be glue of the cyanoacrylate variety.  I remember very clearly one particular insult directed specifically at me in the seventh grade.  "Elise you're so annoying!" 

Not much to the casual observer.

Devastating to insecure little me. I am definately not rubber because it has stuck with me for 6 years.

Now, all these years later, a much more colorful insult, along with one of my own (that he openly agreed with) was thrown my way.  I'm trying hard to be rubber this time, and let it just bounce back off.  But being called a dumbass for breaking trust (even with a most untrustworthy guy) really hit me hard.  This man I speak of and I were chatting online when a random "So when are you gonna send me some more pictures?" comes up.  Now this man was not speaking of nature photography, or a baby album.  My past holds many insecurities and I often try to find acceptance in the wrong places.  I have been trying so hard to put that past behind me, and I am really doing a great job.  When this man asked, I said "No, I won't be doing that anymore. I've chosen to grow up."  He was outwardly receptive to the idea, and wasn't giving me any trouble, but when I copy/pasted the conversation to my friend to show him how well I was doing, he went behind my back to threaten and intimidate the man.  This is when the insults started coming.  The guy asks me, "Who is _______?" and I just blanched.  All I could say was "Oh no" and he replies with "you're a dumbass". 

I died.

I cursed at my close friend.

I threw a fit and felt as if my world was falling apart.

It was a very hard thing for me to deal with, but I'm forcing myself to see it how I should:  This man was not worthy of my presence, and I need no scum like him to make me feel wanted.

The relationship between myself and two others.  I broke the trust of both involved and ended up losing one.  Thankfully, the stronger of the two relationships actually grew.

I am having issues.  That's not what I'm going to talk about today, however.  Instead, I choose to talk about my mother's issues, and how they are affecting me.

"It would be nice to have some sort of a relationship with you," she says, after my insistence that I can handle taking a day off from work.  I have been feeling somewhat under the weather and decided to extend my weekend so I could fully recover.  Though she is my mother, and always will be, I am now the one in charge of my career choices and life decisions, right?  At least I should be.  Perhaps he is only attempting to give advice, but her methods are somewhat (ah and here's that word so often associated with mothers) "nagging".  I basically told her I just don't want to hear it.  Because I don't.  I'm smart enough to think through my actions, and if I make the wrong choice, I will suffer the consequences.  Not that I ever make wrong choices.

Over the weekend I had the same problem, overhearing her tell my dad that she would rather stay out in the country just so she could get away from me.  I had stayed in the house nearly that whole day while she and my dad were out at church, lunch and on the boat.  I barely saw her and yet the few moments I did, I apparently did something so terrible that it prompted her to consider staying in Milford.  All I remember doing was asking her how to use the washing machine....

My headache only seems to increase when she's around, somewhat defeating the purpose of staying home from work.  I'm definately going tomorrow.

For those of you that have read most of my past blogs, it will come as no surprise to you that I am, once again, living unhappily in New York.  As I sit here trying to drown out city noise with the sounds of the Forest Meditation Room, I wonder if it really is at all possible for me to be content here.  I picked a college in a beautiful landscape and I absolutely love it there.  There's a gigantimongous (big) memorial park a few steps away that is pure, unparkified, glorious woods (minus ATV trail and the occasional paintball game).  There's actually GRASS on campus and squirrels everywhere!  And now here I am in New York again, with a park just as big (that's full of noise and people and fences and concrete) and I find myself wanting to go back to school for numerous reasons.  

After 19 years apart, I have finally reached the point in my life where I want to contact my biological parents. My parents (I will always refer to my adoptive parents as "my parents) were always very open about discussing my adoption, even reading me children's books about it on each anniversary of the day I came to live with them. I have an older brother, by 5 years, who was also adopted but from a different family. We were both adopted at about 6 months old so neither of us have any memory of our former lives.
Years passed and I matured, coming to understand the depth of my past bit by bit. I began to ask more questions about my birthparents. I found out that my bio-mother left a knitted sweater and bonnet and my bio-dad had left me his guitar. I had always thought that guitar was my Dad's since he played it a few times and kept it in his office. I looked inside the little compartment and found a picture of a boy in a red sox baseball uniform, wearing Converse high tops in classic black. He looked a lot like me and eventually it hit me....
Another time, soon after, I became even more curious and went thruogh some files. I found out a little bit more about my bio-mom's side of the family and their health problems. In the same folder I found a letter from my bio-dad to me. It was three pages, handwritten. It sounded very heartfelt and it made me feel an emotion I wasn't quite sure of.
Now that I am a legal adult and somewhat settled down for a while in college, I have increased my efforts to find my biological parents and speak with them. For a while the adoption agency didn't have much of a lead, but just yesterday I got a call back from them with the name, email, and phone number of my bio-mom.

I have no idea what to do. Obviously, the first attempt to communicate would be taken through email, but I can't think of what to say... I don't know whether to make it short and to the point, or a life story......

What do I do?

I'm waiting for myself to stop freaking out about waiting.  Just be patient, Elise! Jeez!

Patience, my love. Patience.
Not only is it a virtue, but successfully practicing it greatly reduces the amount of stress in one's life.  I am naturally anxious.  Wait wait wait... that's not right.  "I have accumulated so much stress from living in the future that it feels normal to be tense these days."  Yup, that's it.  I have dreams for my future, and I know what you're thinking "atta girl, Elise!  Be a dreamer!"  I know what you mean but, I think I tend to take it a little too far.  A lot of times my dreams are a little far fetched, which pushes me to work harder and acheive more, however it also means that I am not reaching most of my dreams.  I have a few different dreams of how I want to be living in a few years.  One has me in a little cabin in the woods, another is on a ranch with acres and acres of land, and another still reveals my materialistic side....  I guess having several dreams allows room for happiness in different situations, but I fear always landing in the mediocre. 

The dream that plagues my mind often these days, and has been since I discovered boys, is finding my "true love".  If you have read any of my earlier blogs, you may know this well already.  I have not had a relationship last much longer than 6 months, by my own fault or no.  This may have been to my benefit, since even the shortest one pierced my soul when it ended.  I was young (I still am) and being in relationships shouldn't have been as important to me as it was.  As I am slightly older now, I approach the time in my life where I can actually start looking for a long-term partner.  I still have other things to focus on such as education, my spirituality, and the relationship with my family, but I can't seem to help but look for someone I want to spend my life with.

The qualities I'm looking for in a man are mostly centered around being cared for emotionally and physically.  I want this man to love me and no one else for all that I am, forever.  I want him to be able to take care of me and, if it happens, a family.  I want him to believe what I believe as closely as possible, and be accepting of our differences.  I want to be able to enjoy nature, travel, and adventure with him, living life to the fullest with no regrets. 

It's hard to go home to less friends than you have in college.  A couple years ago, before I left for my first boarding school, I was always so excited to go home and see my friends.  it was all I wished for in the world.  Now I find myself wanting to go back to college.  Not because I don't enjoy the company of my parents, but because I cannot share the same kinds of emotions and conversations with them as I would with my friends.  That should not change of course; parents are not meant for that purpose.  However I miss having friends in one area that I can go back to.  My acquaintances have faded away completely and even the ones I called friends have grown distant.  There remains one constant, and that is my best friend from 3rd grade, Michelle.  We have been apart a long time, but we are both so comfortable with each other that it does not matter.  I hope to see her near the end of my break, but our breaks do not overlap for more than a few days.  I am not ready to settle down in one area (though 4 years of college will be the longest settling in a long time).  i still see myself as a traveler.  These years of being forced to move around the country have actually led me to enjoy seeing new places.  Someday I will get married and settle down in a nice town where I will finally make some long term friends, but for now, I will enjoy meeting new kinds of people wherever I go.

OMG.  So, I have started out my college experience with excellent marks.  I have A's in every class, though I fear it will be short-lived.  I'm falling back into that old pattern of just not doing anything.  From way back in first grade I had an aversion to doing any actual homework, whether or not it was difficult for me.  Most of the time I had the ability to complete my assignment in less than 10 minutes, but motivating myself to actually do it took hours.  I can recognize the same pattern now, so many years later.  I realized it last week, when I showed up in class completely unaware of the quiz that day.  Now I fear I might do the same thing with an exam, and that would be the death of me.  In fact, I think I will study right now, just to be safe! O.O